


Law and Chaos

by hazelNuts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (but only a little) - Freeform, Agent McCall is an asshole, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Background Malia/Kira, Canonical Character Death, Confident Stiles, Derek and Stiles are the Same Age, First Date, Fluff, Fugitive Derek, Guns, Hacker Malia, Hurt Derek, M/M, Mention of Past Derek/Paige, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Murder, POV Derek, Peter is a good uncle, Stiles is far too excited about committing crimes, background Allison/Scott, implied Jennifer/Kali
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Peter have just moved back to Beacon Hills. It's been two years after the fire that destroyed their lives, but their starting to pick things up again. Peter is getting skin grafts for the worst of his burns, and Derek has a new best friend.<br/>But everything starts to fall apart again when that best friend is killed at a party and the police arrest Derek for the murder.</p><p>For Bitetime Fest, inspired by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2171901/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Fugitive at 17</a>. (That movie's story line is actually a lot like S1)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at tagging. If you think I forgot any, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> Unbetaed, all fuck-ups are mine.

‘Come on, Der!’ Heather is pulling on his arm, dragging him up the street.

‘Alright,’ he grumbles. He doesn’t get why she’s so excited. It’s a college party. There’s alcohol, drugs, bad music, and terrible body odour. ‘Give me your phone.’

She hands over her phone and glances at the house where the party is with impatience.

Derek sets an alarm for midnight. ‘When this thing goes off, we leave.’

‘What! Why?’ Heather pouts.

‘Because Peter’s coming home tomorrow. Remember?’ He loves his friend, but sometimes he wishes she had a little more sense of responsibility.

‘Right. Sorry.’ She gives him a quick hug and then bounces inside with excitement.

Derek shakes his head, smiling as he follows her. Who knows, maybe tonight will be fun. They both deserve it.

The moment he enters the house he starts doubting those hopeful thoughts. Ten minutes later, he’s sure. He is not having fun. The party is everything he’d expected it to be, and worse. But at least Heather is having a good time. She’s dancing with two guys, drink in her hand and smiling from ear to ear.

Derek leans back against a wall, committing the guys’ faces to memory. You never know.

‘You look like you would literally rather be anywhere else,’ someone shouts in his ear.

He shrugs, not in the mood for a conversation with a drunk college guy.

‘Not the conversational type. Okay. So what are you doing here?’

He suppresses the need to roll his eyes, and instead nods in the direction of his friend, hoping it will shut the guy up.

‘You realize she’s dancing with two other guys, right? Is this a trap for you to beat up and rob them? If so, I should tell you I have the Sheriff’s Departement on speed dial.’

Okay, so the guy clearly isn’t deterred by non-verbal responses. Derek turns to him with a sigh. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the talker. He’s cute. Big eyes, upturned nose, cheeky grin, wide shoulders, and about his own height. He feels the hope that this might turn into a fun night returning.

‘No, I’m just keeping an eye on my friend,’ Derek explains.

‘Oh. So, she’s not your girlfriend?’

Derek can’t be sure in the dim lighting, but he thinks the expression on the guy’s face is hopeful.

‘No. Not really my type.’ He hopes the guy catches the hint.

‘Great,’ the guy smiles, and extends his hand. ‘I’m Stiles.’

‘Derek,’ he smiles back.

Long fingers wrap around his hand. They’re strong and a little calloused.

‘Can I get you a drink, Derek?’

‘Anything without alcohol.’

‘Okay, be right back,’ Stiles nods and vanishes into the direction of the kitchen.

Derek feels someone staring at him and when he turns back to the dancefloor, Heather is grinning at him, giving him two thumbs up and mouthing, ‘I told you’.

He grins back. She did.

‘So, what’s your major?’ Stiles asks when he returns with two bottles of water.

‘I don’t have one. I don’t actually go to college. I’m getting my GED next year. There was, uhm, a family thing.’ His mind flashes to the funerals and dropping out of private school to take care of his uncle. It feels like less than two years.

‘Sorry. I’m dying of curiosity but I won’t pry. Or I’ll try not to. Prying runs in my family and if I ask too many questions just scowl at me or something. You have the eyebrows for it.’ Stiles takes a sip of his water, his eyes sparkling in mirth.

‘Clever,’ Derek says, raising the afore mentioned eyebrows. ‘What about you? What’s your major?’

‘No major either. Senior year at Beacon Hills High.’

‘You getting an early taste of college parties?’

‘Nope. I’m a wingman tonight.’ Stiles wiggles his eyebrows. ‘One of my friends has a crush on a CompSci freshman.’

‘That’s nice of you.’

‘Not really. She’s buying me curly fries for a month.’

Derek laughs at the smug look on Stiles’ face.

‘So, Derek,’ Stiles says. ‘Leaning against walls like we’re the cool kids in a high school movie is fun, but how about a game of foosball?’

Derek nods and follows Stiles to another room. There they shoo away the two drunks who are currently seeing three balls instead of one. The next hour Derek spends kicking Stiles’ ass, until someone calls for the guy’s attention.

‘Hey, Stiles!’ A sweet looking Asian girl waves at them from the doorway. For a moment Derek’s stomach drops when he sees the way Stiles smiles back at her.

‘That’s my friend. I should go see what she wants,’ Stiles says.

Derek’s stomach moves back into its proper place. He shouldn’t be this disappointed about a guy he’s just met. But as he watches Stiles weave through the mass of people, Derek doesn’t try hiding the fact that his gaze is locked on the boy’s ass.

‘I’m pretty sure that’s not where his eyes are,’ Heather says from behind him.

Derek can’t help huffing a laugh when he sees the way she’s smiling at her own joke.

‘Everything okay?’ he asks.

‘Yep. I just met this woman who teaches self-defence at the community centre just off Main. We’re going somewhere a little more quiet so we can talk. See if it’s for me.’

‘Self-defence?’ Derek asks, his lips quirking. Heather wasn’t really the type to fight. At least not physically.

‘It never hurts to try new stuff.’ She wiggles her eyebrows the same way she does when she’s talking about Chris Evans.

‘You want to know how many guys take the class. So you can stand in the back and watch their butts.’

‘I can learn how to defend myself and watch cute butts. I’m a great multitasker,’ Heather points out. ‘Anyway, I thought I’d let you know so you won’t freak out when you can’t find me on the dancefloor.’

‘You make me sound like I’m over-protective,’ Derek grumbles. ‘I’m not.’

‘Of course, not,’ Heather smiles, patting his arms. Then she turns and disappears into the direction of the stairs.

Derek takes a few sips of his water, and checks his phone. It’s almost midnight.

‘You have time for another game?’ Stiles asks.

‘If you have time for another humiliation, I have time for another game,’ Derek smirks and drops the little ball onto the table.

Fifteen minutes later Derek’s phone beeps midnight and Stiles has just left to get them new drinks.

Derek curses under his breath. He hasn’t even asked the guy for his number yet. Well, Beacon Hills isn’t that big. They’ll run into each other again. For now he should go find Heather.

He pushes through the crowd and up the stairs. It’s quieter up here, probably because everybody on this floor is too busy doing other things with their mouths, leaving no air for talking.

Only one of the doors isn’t fully closed. Derek crosses his fingers, hoping that finding his friend really is that easy. He opens the door a little further and his heart stops.

Heather is lying on the bed. Eyes closed and unmoving. The low lighting gives her face a surreal, purple sheen.

When Derek’s heart starts up again, he can hear it’s pounding in his ears. He races to the bed.

‘Heather?’ His voice trembles and he can feel panic blooming in his chest. He can’t lose his best friend too.

He grabs her face, then her shoulders and tries to shake her awake. Nothing. He searches for a pulse, the panic goes down a little when he finds one. She’s alive, but barely. He fumbles for his phone, dropping it when his hands won’t stop shaking. _Not the time for a panic attack, Hale_ , he tells himself. He picks his phone off the floor and by some miracle unlocks it.

Derek is so focused on his friend, he doesn’t see the blow coming. Surprised and disoriented, he falls to the floor. Nails are set to his cheek and he screams at the burning sensation when they scrape down. It feels like someone is trying to tear his face off.

‘You only have yourself to blame, freak,’ a woman hisses in his ears.

He tries to push his attacker away and scramble up, but he’s barely gotten his hands under him when another blow drops him again.

Derek wakes up with a deputy standing over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek walks to the armoured truck in a daze.

‘We’re transporting men and women in the same vehicle now?’ a deputies asks, frowning.

‘Budget cuts,’ the Sheriff answers with a sigh.

‘And it’s not like the kid can do her any harm.’ The sound of agent McCall’s voice makes his anger bubble up again. ‘I’d be more worried about him than the woman.’

‘That’s why I’m asking,’ the deputy says.

Derek is pushed into the back and stumbles to the bench. He glances at the woman sitting across from him. She looks like one of his old teachers, with her long brown hair and soft features. But there is a cruelty in her eyes and a meanness to her smile that makes Derek look back down.

‘Don’t like what you see, boy?’ she asks. ‘Oh, come on. Talk to me. It’s not like you’ll have to put up with me for long.’

Derek looks up at that, frowning. What the hell is she talking about? It’s at least a forty-five minute drive.

‘My you are pretty one,’ the woman muses. ‘I used to be pretty. Until someone gave me these.’ She turns her head so Derek can see the side of her face, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

There is a checkered pattern of what can only be claw marks covering her cheek. The scars are ragged and ugly.

She chuckles at the shocked look on Derek’s face. ‘Gets them every time.’

Derek looks back down at his hands. This day is getting worse by the second.

After Deputy Parrish had escorted him from the bedroom where he’d found Heather, he’d been checked out by an EMT. She’d stated he might have a mild concussion, then cleaned the scratches on his cheek and she tried to send him home. He’d refused and asked her about his friend. The woman had told him to go home again, this time a little more urgently, but he’d stopped listening when another pair of EMT’s had come out of the house with a body bag. He’d frozen in place, feeling his entire world collapse for the second time in only two years.

Deputy Parrish had driven him to the station a little while later. There they’d taken his statement, and someone had called him a taxi.

He’d barely slept that night. Every time he’d closed his eyes he saw his best friend lying on that bed. So when he’d gotten the call to come back to the station for a follow-up, he’d only just managed not to crash his car on the way over. He’d been so tired, that he hadn’t realized he was being interrogated until it was too late.

‘You think I killed her?’ he’d asked.

‘Yes, Mr Hale. That’s why we’re all here,’ Agent McCall had sneered. ‘And not just her.’

‘What?’ This guy obviously had a couple loose marbles rolling around in his head.

The agent had explained that several murders with the same MO had been committed in Oregon and in Nevada, making it an FBI case.

Derek had looked from the agent to the Sheriff in disbelief. Did they really think he’d killed Heather? Moreover, did they honestly think he was a serial killer? He’s eighteen!

‘I’m sorry, kid, but you’re prints were found on the box that held the aconite,’ the Sheriff had said. Unlike the FBI agent, he at least looked like he was sorry about accusing him of murdering his best friend. ‘And once we get the results back from the lab, we’ll find that your DNA was under her nails.’

Derek had brought his hand to his cheek. The skin still felt tender.

‘No,’ he’d shaken his head. ‘I told you I was attacked. Someone knocked me to the floor.’

‘That happens when someone tries to defend themselves.’

He was really starting to dislike Agent McCall.

‘Heather said there was someone she’d wanted to talk to,’ he tried again.

‘You said. A self-defence instructor, wasn’t it? Because of course you would find one of those at a college party.’

Derek had balled his fists and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He’d tried to find his words, a way to convince them that he was being set up. That plan evaporated the moment McCall had mentioned his family.

‘- your family?’

‘What?’ His breath was speeding up and there was a ringing in his ear.

‘McCall,’ the Sheriff had warned the agent.

‘I’m just curious how you came upon the idea to kill your family?’

That’s when Derek had snapped. He’d flown across the table, but strong hands had pulled him back. It had taken three officers to hold him down and drag him to the holding cells.

There he’d slumped to the floor and curled up, his arms wrapped around is legs and his head on his knees, memories of the day of the fire flooding his mind. He could hear Sheriff Stilinski and Agent McCall yelling in the background.

He’d remembered the Sheriff from that day, the first time his world had been turned upside down. The man had made sure that Derek was never alone, had made sure he would end up with good people, while his uncle was recovering in the hospital. He’d even come to say goodbye when Derek and his uncle had left town.

And now the man was holding him on suspicion for murdering his best friend.

Both the Sheriff and Deputy Parrish had tried talking to him after that. But the only people he’d wanted to talk to were Heather and Peter, but neither was an option. Heather was dead and Peter was still recovering from his surgery.

Derek is pulled out of his thoughts when the van comes to a sudden stop and nearly gets thrown onto the floor.

‘Showtime, kid,’ the brown-haired woman grins.

He hears yelling and the driver calling for backup. There is more yelling.

The sound of a gun going off.

Silence.

The doors unlock and then they’re thrown open. Derek squints in the sudden light.

A brown-skinned woman with long black hair jumps in and moves towards the woman across from him.

‘Hey, babe,’ she whispers and caresses the scarred cheek. She unlocks the woman’s cuffs and then they’re out of the van.

‘Free the kid,’ the brown-haired woman says. ‘It will take them longer to find us if he’s out as well.’ The brown-skinned woman grins in approval and climbs back into the van. She unlocks Derek’s cuffs and pulls him out of the van behind her. He tries to protest, but it’s no use.

‘They’ll charge you as an accessory,’ the brown-haired woman smirks. ‘So I suggest you run.’

Derek doesn’t move until he hears sirens in the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek is tired, hungry and cold. Thank god he only has one more block to go. He checks the street to make sure there are no cops lying in wait like they had at the house. When everything seems clear, he sprints to the apartment building.

Malia is Peter’s daughter by birth, but since his uncle had only been sixteen at the time, and the mother had run out, he’d put her up for adoption.

Derek hopes this will make it harder for the police to find their connection.

He presses the buzzer, and to his surprise is let in without question. He takes the stairs, not wanting to be trapped in the elevator when he needs to run. When he reaches the third floor, he opens the stairwell and peeks out to make sure the hallway is empty. He strides to his cousin’s front door and knocks.

‘Hey, that was-‘ the girl in front of him trails off. Her eyes widen and then she frowns in confusion.

That is definitely not his cousin, though she does look familiar.

‘Is Malia here?’ he asks.

‘Who are you?’ The confusion turns to caution.

‘Family.’

‘Oh.’ She opens the door wider to let him in. ‘Malia, it’s for you.’

Derek follows the girl to the living room. Malia is sitting on the couch, staring intently at the DVDs strewn all over the coffee table.

‘Derek? What are you doing here?’ His cousin freezes and fear flashes across her face. ‘Did something happen to Peter?’

He shakes his head and drops down on the other side of the couch. A glass of water is put in front of him.

‘I’m Kira, by the way,’ the other girl introduces herself with a little wave. She keeps standing awkwardly next to Malia until there is a knock on the door. ‘I’ll get it,’ she says in obvious relief.

‘I come bearing pizzas!’ a familiar voice yells the moment the door is thrown open. ‘Feast your eyes upon the gloriousness that is- Derek?’

‘Smooth,’ Kira says, nudging Stiles. ‘I should remember that.’

Derek frowns in confusion. He’s too tired to even ask Stiles what he’s doing here.

But Stiles seemed to understand what he meant anyway, because he says, ‘Kira is the friend I told you about the other night. And Malia is her crush. What are you doing here?’

‘Malia’s my cousin.’ He doesn’t want to tell Stiles about his arrest. He doesn’t want to tell Kira either. He just wants to talk to Malia.

‘That’s not entirely what I meant, dude. I meant why are you out? I thought you were arrested.’

Derek is up in an instant, but his cousin’s strong hands pull him back down onto the couch and keep him there.

Malia pins him with her gaze and growls, ‘You were arrested? You didn’t think to tell me that when I asked you what you were doing here?’

‘I didn’t really feel like talking about how I’m being accused of killing my best friend in front of strangers,’ Derek growls back, throwing a glance at where Stiles and Kira are still standing.

‘Tell me,’ Malia orders.

Derek sighs, silently resigning himself to the fact that at any moment Stiles or Kira might call the cops. Stiles had told him he the Sheriff’s Department on speed dial.

And then he starts talking. He tells them everything, from finding Heather and being attacked, to the interrogation with agent McCall and the Sheriff and their accusations. He finishes with the rescue from the transport.

Derek feels himself falling apart again, the way he’d done when he’d come home after the party, but strong fingers wrap around his hands and squeeze lightly, grounding him. He’s surprised to find that Stiles is the one the hands belong to.

The guy is sitting in front of him, on the coffee table. He looks at Derek with concern.

‘I’m sorry,’ Stiles whispers.

‘I didn’t do it,’ Derek whispers back. ‘Someone is setting me up.’

‘I know,’ Stiles assures him, squeezing his hands again. ‘I don’t believe you did it for a second.’

‘What do I do now?’ Derek feels lost. He doesn’t know what to do. The Sheriff had told him Peter would stay in the hospital for now. And there is nothing Malia can do for him. He shouldn’t even have come here, but all he’d wanted was a friendly face.

‘We find out who _did_ kill your friend,’ Stiles says determined.

‘What?’ Oh no, he can’t drag other people into his vortex of bad luck.

‘Yes. I’m going to help you,’ Stiles nods decisively.

‘So am I,’ Malia says.

‘I don’t know if I’ll be any help, but it’s yours if you need it,’ Kira assures him.

‘Thank you, but-‘

‘No buts,’ Stiles says waving away any protest Derek might come up with. He grabs one of the pizza boxes and shoves it into Derek’s hands. ‘We’re going to brainstorm, but first we need to eat. I can’t think on an empty stomach.’

Stiles moves to sit on the floor next to Derek’s leg and holds up his hand for a slice. Derek watches in fascination as Stiles stuffs half the slice in his mouth.

‘The self-defence instructor, it could be her,’ Stiles suddenly says. He jumps up and starts pacing the room, waving around the left-over half of the slice in excitement. ‘Think about it. You said it was a woman and that she was strong. And, she’s the one who’d gotten Heather alone.’

‘Are you sure?’ Derek asks. He wants to find the killer, but he doesn’t want to put the blame on an innocent person. He knows what that’s like and it sucks.

‘Of course he is.’ Kira is starting to look just as excited as Stiles. ‘Stiles knows what he’s doing. He’s-‘

‘-addicted to cop shows,’ Stiles says with a pointed look at his friend.

‘And how are we going to find out who she is?’ Derek asks. ‘By lying in wait at the community centre?’

‘The internet.’ Stiles shakes his head in what appears to be fond disappointment.

‘You said the centre was just off main, right?’ Malia asks and grabs her laptop. She presses a few keys and then comes up with a name. ‘Cathy Sterling.’

‘That was fast,’ Stiles says, sounding impressed.

‘It’s the only female instructor there,’ Malia shrugs.

Stiles looks over Malia’s shoulder at the screen. ‘It says here she’ll be teaching a class tomorrow afternoon. We could break into her place, see if we can find anything.’

‘We don’t know where she lives,’ Derek reminds him. ‘Besides don’t you have school?’

‘School, schmool,’ Stiles grins.                                                     

‘She’s not listed anywhere online,’ Malia interrupts, before Derek can start lecturing Stiles about the importance of getting an education. ‘The community centre will probably have her address on file. If it’s on one of their computers, I’ll find it. I doubt they’re firewall is very good.’

‘You’re a hacker?’ Stiles asks sounding impressed. He bends a little closer to see what Malia is doing, but the girl jabs him with her elbow and he stumbles away. He glances out of the window and freezes. ‘You need to leave, Derek. There is a deputy coming towards the building.’ Stiles pulls him off the couch and pushes him towards the bedroom. ‘Take the fire escape, walk two blocks east. I’ll pick you up. I drive a blue Jeep. You can’t miss it.’


	4. Chapter 4

Derek had been a bundle of nerves the moment he’d stepped out of the window. It had only gotten worse when he’d gotten into the Jeep. Five minutes into the drive, Stiles had punched him in the arm and told that he would kick him out of his car if Derek didn’t stop being twitchy.

‘Focus on the sound of the engine,’ Stiles had said.

‘That is not going to make me any less nervous.’

Stiles had punched him again, but Derek had relaxed a little.

Now he’s standing in the bathroom and wondering why the hell he is trusting a stranger this much. The fact that he doesn’t have a choice is only part of it. There is something about Stiles that makes it seem like the guy has it all figured out. It’s as if he has a map in his head to finding Heather’s killer. The big eyes and nice hands help a little, too.

Derek turns the shower on and steps under the spray. He feels the dirt and grime from spending half the day in a cell, and his walk across town, washing away. He opens the bottle of green apple shampoo, smiling when smell of Stiles fills the shower. The muscles in his back and shoulders loosen and slowly, Derek starts to relax and the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours takes hold.

He hums while towelling off. Why shouldn’t he? Tomorrow Heather’s killer might very well be in jail and for now he is safe. He slings a towel across his waist and walks back to Stiles’ bedroom. When he opens the door, he is yanked inside and pushed against the wall. A hand covers his mouth.

Derek raises his eyebrows, wants to make a joke about how Stiles could’ve just asked for sex, no need to for the elaborate plan, but stops when he sees Stiles’ face. The boy’s eyes are wide and he seems to be listening for something. Then Derek hears footsteps on the stairs and freezes.

‘Stiles, you home?’ A familiar voice calls out.

Derek throws a furious look at Stiles. What the hell is Sheriff Stilinski doing here?

‘Not a word,’ Stiles hisses, ignoring the glare, and opens the door. ‘Heeeeeeeey, daddy-o. What are you doing home so early?’

The Sheriff is Stiles’ dad? All Derek’s muscles lock. Fuck, he’s so screwed. He’s not going to prison. He’s going to get shot, because he is a half-naked fugitive in the Sheriff’s son’s bedroom! He’s going to kill Stiles, who is leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, blocking most of the Sheriff’s view into the room.

‘I just came by for a change of clothes? Everything okay?’ the Sheriff says. The man sounds exhausted. _Maybe that means his aim will be off_ , Derek hopes.

‘Yep. Why shouldn’t it be? All is a-okay here.’ Derek barely resists the urge to jump out the window and try to make a run for it. There is no way the Sheriff is going to believe this. ‘Just out of curiosity,’ Stiles continues, ‘where is our air mattress?’

‘We got rid of it when you and Scott tried to use it as a sled a couple years ago.’

‘Ah, right.’

Well that’s it for a comfortable bed. He’s going to have to sleep on the floor.

‘What do you need it for anyway?’ the Sheriff asks, suspicion in his voice.

‘Scott is probably coming over.’

‘You and Scott haven’t slept in separate beds when one of you stays over since you were eight.’ The suspicion in the Sheriff’s voice is getting more pronounced.

‘Allison might be coming too,’ Stiles quickly adds.

‘Then be a gentleman and give her your bed,’ the Sheriff says. ‘And clean your sheets if you do.’

Derek can see the back of Stiles’ neck going a little red, blushing at his dad’s teasing voice.

‘Right, well, homework,’ Stiles blusters and steps back into his room. Derek can hear the Sheriff chuckling on the other side of the closed door.

When they finally hear the police cruiser drive away ten minutes later, Derek turns to Stiles and grabs the guy’s shirt.

‘Your dad is the Sheriff?’ he growls, pushing Stiles against the wall.

‘You noticed that, huh?’ Stiles says, trying to sound calm, but Derek can feel his heart thundering under his hand.

‘I did.’ He waits for the boy to explain.

‘I seriously believe you’re innocent, dude!’ Stiles exclaims. His hands are moving wildly in an attempt to convey his seriousness. ‘And I’m pretty sure my dad does, too. You should have heard him cursing out McCall when I stopped by the station this afternoon. If I used that kind of language I would be grounded for a month.’ Stiles smirks hopefully and slaps Derek’s shoulder.

Derek raises his eyebrows and the smirk drops from Stiles’ face.

‘No slapping the very nice shoulders,’ Stiles says. ‘Got it.’

Derek suddenly realizes that he’s still only wearing a towel. He lets go of Stiles and moves to the bed where Stiles has laid out some clothes. The boxers and sweatpants fit, but the shirt is too tight to be comfortable.

‘Sorry, it’s the biggest I have,’ Stiles shrugs.

‘Never mind,’ Derek sighs. ‘What now?’

‘I thought we’d watch a movie until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open and then go to bed.’

‘Okay. I’ll take the floor.’

‘Yeah, maybe that’s not such a great idea. Whenever my dad is stressed, he tends to check up on me. I think he’ll have some questions if he finds a fugitive sleeping on my floor.’

‘You don’t have any more brilliant excuses for daddy-o?’ Derek questions.

‘Of course, I do. It’s just that bloodstains are impossible to remove from carpet,’ Stiles grins.

‘So, we sleep in the same bed? Won’t your boyfriend mind?’ He’ll already have an angry Sheriff on his ass when he’s found in Stiles’ room, he really doesn’t need an angry boyfriend added to the list of people who want to hurt him.

‘What boyfriend?’

‘Scott, the guy who you always sleep in the same bed with.’ How does someone forget they have a boyfriend?

‘Dude, Scott’s my bro!’ Stiles laughs. ‘If he found out I had a hot guy in my bed he would high-five me.’

Derek feels the heat rising to his cheeks and ducks his head. ‘You said something about a movie?’

Stiles turns on his laptop and tells Derek to pick something while he gets the snacks.

It doesn’t take long for Derek to relax again, despite realizing how stupid it is to trust this boy so completely. And before the first movie’s even ended, he falls asleep, his head resting on Stiles’ shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

‘Batteries full?’ Stiles asks, tapping his pen against the list in his hand.

‘Check,’ Derek sighs and watches as Stiles checks it off the list.

‘Hoodie?’

‘Check.’

‘Grumpy face?’

‘Stiles,’ he growls.

‘Come on! It’s just a little joke before the serious business starts,’ Stiles pouts.

Derek rolls his eyes and jumps out of the car. He walks into the alley behind Cathy’s house, trying to be inconspicuous about checking for anyone watching.

The crackle of the walkie-talkie makes him jump. ‘Dude, you look like such a criminal. Relax or some old lady is going to call the cops, because she thinks there is a “prowler”,’ Stiles’ voice sounds out of the little speaker.

Derek throws a glare over his shoulder at the Jeep and moves further into the alley.

Around noon Malia had finally texted them with the address to Cathy’s home. Derek’s heart had sped up in excitement when Stiles had showed him the message. He’d never thought he’d be happy about committing a crime, but this week was full of firsts.

Most of them bad, but not all. That morning had been the first time he’d woken up next to another boy. It had been his first breakfast with Stiles. After, they’d gone to the lookout, found a comfortable tree to sit against and watched a movie. Stiles had charged his laptop and bought them hot chocolate for the occasion. With Stiles curled in to his side and a warm drink in his hands, it had been a pretty good morning.

After Malia’s message they’d gone back to the Stilinski house to get all the tools. The Sheriff had already gone back at the station, so Stiles and Derek had had the run of the house. Cathy’s class wouldn’t start until four. Stiles had pulled out a notepad and started planning the entire expedition, step-by-step.

Derek’s still not sure whether it’s sweet or disturbing how into all this Stiles is.

He hops the fence and quickly walks to the backdoor.

‘Shit.’ There’s a sticker indicating there is an alarm. He presses the button on his walkie. ‘Stiles?’

There is long suffering sigh coming from the other end. ‘Alpha, this is Little Red. Please use the codenames and the proper lingo. Do you copy?’

‘Copy, Little Red,’ Derek answers, rolling his eyes. ‘There is a sticker for an alarm system here. Do we abort.’ There is a very pointed silence while he waits for Stiles’ answer. ‘Over.’

‘No, we do not. Those things are usually fake, but just to be safe, what does it say? Over.’

‘SilverSafe. Over.’

‘Once you get in, look for a grey box with yellow lights by the front door. You have two minutes before they call. Once the phone stops ringing you have approximately three minutes to get out of there before the police arrive. Over.’

‘They’re already looking for me for murder, adding a burglary charge isn’t really a problem. Over.’

‘Yeah, but getting arrested is. You sure you know how to pick a lock? Over.’

‘Yes, my sister taught me when I was ten. Over.’ Laura had regretted that three days later when she’d found Derek reading her diary.

‘Alright, let me know when you find something. Little Red out.’

‘Will do. Alpha out.’

It takes him a little longer than he’d expected, but still no more than a three minutes. He first checks by the front door. And there it is, the grey box with the yellow lights. He has five minutes.

Derek doubts the woman is arrogant or stupid enough to keep anything incriminating in the living room, so he goes to the study. The house only has one floor and Stiles had made him memorize the blueprints he’d managed to find on the internet. The kid might not be a hacker, but what he could do with a search engine was just as terrifying.

‘Holy shit,’ Derek whispers. Stiles had shown him a hundred pictures of the little purple plant he was looking for. What he saw on the windowsill in the study was definitely aconite. He fumbles for his walkie-talkie. ‘Alpha for Little Red. Over.’

‘This is Little Red. What did you find? Over.’

‘The flowers. She has them in her study. Over.’

‘Fuck. Okay, you need to look for the powder. The flowers won’t be enough. Over.’

‘Will do. Over.’

Derek’s hands are shaking, a distant ringing in his ears, as he goes through the desk drawers. But he only finds blank papers and pens. He goes for the filing cabinet next. The top drawer contains several folders and he’s about to close it, when his own last name catches his eye. _Hale_.

He pulls it out and takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he might find. But when he opens the folder and sees what’s inside, he realizes he could never have prepared himself for this.

‘Stiles,’ he whispers into the walkie.

‘Alpha, I kee-‘

‘Stiles, she has a folder on my family. There are articles about the fire. There is a list of family members with their names crossed out,’ Derek’s voice breaks on the last word. He brushes his fingers over the two names at the top. Talia and Jonathan Hale.

‘Derek, you need to get out of there. Now!’ Stiles says urgently. ‘Your time is almost up and this woman is obviously dangerous.’

‘No.’ Derek shakes his head, even though Stiles can’t see him. ‘I’m going to look for the powder.’

‘Derek!’ Stiles yells.

 But whatever else he was going to say, Derek can’t hear it. He turns off the walkie-talkie and moves to the bedroom. He rifles through clothes and make-up. He checks behind books and even behind a mirror. It’s not until he looks under the bed and finds a black bag, that he thinks he might finally have found what he’s looking for.

He pulls it out and slides the zipper open, heart pounding out of his chest. And there it is. Not just a vial, but an entire Tupperware container full of the purple powder that had covered Heather’s face.

He jumps up in excitement, only to drop down again when he sees a police cruiser approaching the house.


	6. Chapter 6

‘Here.’ Malia shoves a plate into Derek’s hands. It’s filled with microwaved macaroni-and-cheese and reheated buffalo wings.

‘No,’ Stiles says and grabs the plate out of Derek’s hands. ‘You don’t get delicious food.’

‘I said I was sorry.’ In fact, he’s said it about a hundred times since leaving Cathy’s place.

‘You’re lucky Parrish was the one who took that call. Any other deputy would’ve radioed my dad!’ Stiles is seething, but at least he’s talking again. The silent fury from the car ride had been terrible. ‘And you would’ve been arrested! Do you really think you would’ve gotten out again? How were you planning on catching that psycho bitch from jail?’

Derek turns to face him. He grabs Stiles’ face so he can look him straight in the eye. ‘I am sorry, Stiles. I promise not to do anything so stupid and reckless again.’

‘Good,’ Stiles nods. He pries Derek’s hands off his face and gives him back his plate. After a moment of thought, he steals one of the wings. ‘That’s the payment for me saving your ass.’

‘Seems fair,’ Derek grins.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he smiles back. It’s stupid how much Derek likes that smile after only knowing the guy for a couple of days.

‘You two done?’ Malia asks. Without waiting for an answer she continues, ‘You going to see Peter tomorrow?’

‘I doubt I can. They’ll probably be looking for me there.’

‘What’s tomorrow?’ Stiles frowns down at his plate when some of the macaroni escapes his mouth.

‘Peter’s birthday. We’d planned to get Chinese take-out and watch a movie.’

‘Sounds exciting,’ Stiles snorts.

‘He can’t do much more while recovering,’ Derek shrugs.

Stiles bumps they’re shoulders, nearly making Derek drop his plate, and smiles cheekily. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you can have some birthday cake. And hey, if they arrest you, the sugar high should keep you alert enough to not rat me out.’

‘Jeez. Thanks. But what if hand over all the stuff we found at Cathy’s today? Won’t they have to arrest her and drop my charges?’ Because that was what this afternoon was about, right? Finding Heather’s killer?

Stiles shakes his head, sadly. ‘Sorry, dude, but if we pass on what we’ve found it won’t do any good. It won’t get them a search warrant and it’s definitely not enough to arrest her.’

‘But we found the aconite!’

‘She’ll just say we planted it. We broke in. Any evidence we found will be inadmissible.’

‘So you nearly got Derek arrested over nothing?’ Malia asks, brows contracting. She looks like she’s about to strangle Stiles.

‘We needed to know who the killer was. And now we do,’ Stiles explains. ‘We now have to collect the evidence that will land the psycho’s ass in jail.’

‘Why don’t we just shoot her? It’ll be a lot easier,’ Malia wonders.

‘How?’ Derek asks Stiles, ignoring his cousin’s violent tendencies. ‘It sounds like nothing but a confession is going to convince them.’

‘Which is why we’re getting a confession,’ Stiles grins triumphantly. He waves his fork around enthusiastically and Derek barely manages to avoid getting stabbed in the eye.

‘How would we do that?’ Derek asks, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows. ‘Go up to her and ask: Hey, have you killed a teenage blonde this week by any chance? Maybe some other people in a couple other states, too? Because I doubt she’ll say yes.’

‘No. We’re going to get it by doing something incredibly stupid and reckless.’


	7. Chapter 7

‘And you’re sure this will work?’ Derek asks, doubt in his voice and looking at the window he’s supposed to climb through. He’s not doubting he’ll be able to, it’s on the ground floor of the hospital. He’s doubting they’ll get away with it.

‘For the bazillionth time, yes.’ Stiles sounds exasperated. ‘Have I steered you wrong yet?’

‘No.’ Derek has to admit, but there is a first time for everything.

‘Exactly. So, I’m going in, talk my way into your uncle’s room, help you climb in, we switch clothes, I climb out and go get the spy-gear from the station, while you and your uncle eat cake.’

Derek nods. It’s going to be fine. In a strange way, luck had been on their side the last few days.

Stiles grins, then jumps out of the Jeep. Derek can’t help his chuckle. That boy is as graceful as a new-born deer.

He only has to wait five minutes before Stiles opens the window and waves at him. Derek climbs out of the car, quickly check if anyone is watching and then jumps to grab on to the windowsill. Stiles grabs his arms to pull him inside, while Derek tries to find purchase on the smooth wall with his sneakers. There is a lot of huffing and groaning, and when he’s finally in, he leans  against the wall to catch his breath.

Peter is lying in the bed, smirking at them. ‘Well that was a great birthday gift. I can honestly say I’ve never been this entertained.’

‘Just because you’re in the hospital doesn’t mean I’m above hitting you,’ Derek smirks back. ‘Happy birthday, Peter.’

‘That depends, did you bring cake?’

‘Yes we did,’ Stiles says, holding up his backpack triumphantly.

Peter turns to Derek with a serious look. ‘Keep him.’

Derek ducks his head to try and hide the faint blush that’s creeping onto his cheeks.

‘Time for the wardrobe change,’ Stiles announces, oblivious to Derek’s fluster, and pulls off his hoodie and baseball cap, throwing them on the bed.

Derek shrugs out of his leather jacket and pulls the hoodie over his head. It’s a little tight around the shoulders, but he’ll manage.

When he puts on the baseball cap, Stiles snorts. ‘Dude, you look ridiculous.’

‘Now you know how you look,’ Derek deadpans.

Stiles inhales sharply and clutches his heart. ‘That’s the thanks I get, you ungrateful Sourbrows?’

There is a chuckle from Peter at the nickname.

‘If you use it, I’m eating all the cake,’ Derek warns him.

His uncle holds up his hands in surrender, but there is a glint in his eyes that tells Derek he’ll be hearing it the moment the food is gone.

‘Alright, children, I’m off.’ Stiles salutes them and then climbs out the window.

Derek checks to make sure he’s okay. Stiles waves at him and then blows him a kiss. He’s fine.

‘You like him,’ Peter muses, tilting his head.

Derek nods. There is no use denying it. He does like Stiles. A lot.

‘Not that it will matter much if I get caught,’ he says.

‘I have a feeling that boy already has a plan to break you out if that happens.’

Derek laughs, because there’s a good chance Stiles does.

‘Tell me,’ Peter continues. ‘What is all this nonsense about you being a serial killer?’

Derek moves one of the chairs to sit with his back to the door, and starts talking. Peter doesn’t interrupt him, but there are a lot of eye rolls and some mutterings about the incompetence of the police.

‘I’m pretty sure the Sheriff believes me,’ Derek says, feeling the need to defend Stiles’ dad. ‘But the FBI have the lead and agent McCall is a self-centred dick.’

‘Stiles’ words, I’m assuming,’ Peter smirks.

They get interrupted twice. Once by the deputy, asking if there’s anything “Stiles” might need. Derek manages to get into the bathroom just in time, when a nurse walks in.

A half-hour later, Stiles is back and Derek hauls him up into the room.

‘Nice muscles,’ Stiles says, patting his biceps. ‘I have everything. We should probably go if we want to be on time.’

‘On time for what?’ Peter asks.

Derek hadn’t told him about their plan to get a confession from Cathy, not wanting to worry him any more than he already did.

‘It’s nothing,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

‘It better not be with Plexiglas between us,’ Peter frowns.

Derek and Stiles swap clothes again and he climbs out with a final wave to his uncle. He really hopes he _will_ see him again soon.

‘Do you think we should alert the hospital about their crappy firewall?’ Derek asks when their driving away. ‘It was very easy for Malia to hack their system and find Peter’s information.’

‘Great idea. Maybe we should leave them a note. “Hey, we hacked your system so a fugitive could visit his sick uncle. You should probably update your firewall”.’

Derek turns his head to look out the window, to hide his smile.


	8. Chapter 8

‘Derek this wasn’t the plan!’ Stiles yells at him through the phone.

‘I know that, but this might be our only chance.’ He isn’t going to back out. He’s so close.

‘What if something happens?’

‘Then you’ll be listening, and you’ll call 911.’

‘Fuck,’ Stiles mutters. ‘Fine. Where are you going?’

‘Old Mill Road. That’s-‘

‘That’s right on the county limit!’ Stiles is yelling again. ‘It’ll take them at least fifteen minutes to get there! You could be dead by then. I changed my mind. Turn around. I’ll figure something out.’

‘Stiles, I’m going to be fine. You’ll be able to hear everything. I have a Taser. We almost have her. We’ve almost got Heather’s killer,’ he pleads.

‘I’m still going to kick your ass for this, when it’s over.’

‘Deal.’ He turns into the driveway of the little cabin. ‘I’m here. I’ll talk to you soon.’

Derek disconnects the call and clenches his hands around the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath in. He can do this. So far, the plan has worked perfectly.

The community centre has an open mic night every Saturday, and every Saturday Cathy is there. The plan was for Derek to go in, seduce her. They’d go back to her place and then he’d get her to confess. The fact that they’re now at her cabin instead of her house, is a slight deviation, but not a problem.

He steps out of the car and smiles up at the blonde woman waiting by the door.

‘Nice place,’ he says, while supressing a shudder. It’s creepy, actually. It’s too quiet.

‘Thank you,’ Cathy smiles back. ‘It belongs to my family, but they’ve never really taken to it.’

She unlocks the door. When Derek follows her inside, he can understand why the rest of the family doesn’t like it. The interior of the cabin is even creepier than the outside had been. Animal heads are mounted all over the walls and there’s an entire bear standing in the corner.

‘Wow.’

‘Awesome, isn’t it?’ Cathy sounds very proud of her collection of dead animals.

‘It sure is something,’ Derek mumbles under his breath.

‘Would you like a drink?’ Cathy asks, turning towards the bar.

‘Sure.’

‘Whiskey sound good?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ Derek says, trying to sound enthusiastic. He shrugs off his jacket, hangs it over the back off the couch and sits down.

‘Please make yourself comfortable.’ Cathy is all friendly smiles and politeness. No wonder they haven’t caught her yet. She looks so innocent. ‘Here you go,’ she says and hands him a glass of what he assumes is whiskey.

‘Thank you.’

He takes the glass, but then lets it slip out of his fingers. Stiles had been very clear about not accepting any drinks or food from the woman. The glass falls unto the rug, spilling the contents.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry,’ he says, but is mostly talking to the tiger the rug used to belong to.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ There is something in Cathy’s eye, though, that makes him glad he listened to Stiles. She puts a hand on his chest, stopping him from getting up and getting a towel. ‘It’s just a little whiskey. There is plenty more.’

‘Good,’ he swallows. It takes him everything he has to not jump back, away from her touch.

He shifts a little so Cathy’s hand moves upward. He knows the moment she feels the mic Stiles had taped to his chest two hours ago. Lightning quick, her hand disappears under his shirt. Derek winces as the tape is ripped off his chest.

‘You’re recording this?’ She’s still smiling, but the sweetness in it is gone, leaving it empty. She pulls on the cord that connects the mic to the transmitter in his pocket. When she holds the device in her hands she throws it on the ground and crushes it with her boots. ‘Well that’s your little plan failed, sweetheart.’

Derek jumps up and backs away from the woman before she can touch him again.

‘I know what you did,’ he blurts out. ‘I know what you did to Heather.’

‘That’s all you know?’ she asks. ‘I figured you would’ve put together the pieces after seeing your family’s file. Yeah, I know about your little unauthorized visit to my home.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Derek whispers. The newspaper clippings and the list of names flash through his mind. That list with his parent’s name at the top.

‘I killed them.’

‘Why?’ he asks, taking another step back. His back hits the wall and he leans against it for support. Why would this stranger kill his entire family?

‘Because you’re abominations. Animals,’ Cathy hisses in disgust. Derek’s confusion must have shown on his face and the derision in her voice is clear, when the woman continues. ‘Even now you still deny the fact that you’re a werewolf. Impressive.’

‘You’re insane,’ Derek realizes.

He doesn’t notice the fist until it connects with his jaw. His head thumps against the wall and he slides to the floor, his vision blacking out. When he stops seeing stars, Cathy is leaning over him.

‘No, I’m the only one who isn’t blind to the truth. It doesn’t really matter what you think of me, though. You’ll be dead soon enough. You see, I don’t like survivors.

‘I was so angry when I saw you around town last week, but then I realized what an opportunity it was. The FBI was starting to close in on me, but now I could pin everything on you. And it worked out perfectly!’ The woman lets out a wild laugh. ‘They ate it all up, desperate to pin those murders on someone. And now, I have you trapped.’

‘You won’t get away with it. You’ll be in jail soon, even if you kill me. I’ve recorded everything.’

‘You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought, because your mic is lying in pieces on the floor, honey,’ Cathy says and pats him on the head in mock-pity.

He needs to get out of here, but the only way out is through Cathy. He sits up a little, gets ready to run.

‘I’m talking about the microphone in my jacket,’ he grins in triumph.

Cathy pales and glances at where his jacket is lying on the couch.

Derek is ready. The moment she looks away, he pulls the Taser out of the waistband of his jeans and pushes it against the woman’s abdomen. Cathy screams in pain and falls backwards, giving Derek the space to scramble up and run out of the house.

He searches his pockets for the keys to the Jeep when he arrives at the car, but they’re still in his jacket. Which is still in the house. He tries Cathy’s car, but that’s locked too. Realizing he only has one option, he runs into the woods.

He looks around, tries to find anything to hide in. A large tree, a dried up creek bed, some animal’s den. He starts to think it’s safe to stop and catch his breath when the sound of a gunshot makes him stumble.

‘Come on, you freak!’ Cathy yells. ‘You hear that? That is the sound my silver tipped, wolfsbane laced bullets make when they leave my gun. It’ll be the last sound you’ll ever hear!’

‘I should have listened to Stiles,’ Derek mutters as he starts running again.

He starts recognizing the woods from when they still lived in the big house. He recognizes the tree he and Paige had carved their names in. Finally, things seem to be going his way. There should be a large oak nearby. The branches are too high to climb, but he’ll be able to hide behind it until he catches his breath.

When he finds the tree, he hunkers down and listens for any sign of the woman’s approach. He soon hears branches snapping and leaves rustling. Derek gets ready to start running again, but then he hears someone else approaching from a little further away. Cathy was stealthy, and he hadn’t heard her until she was almost upon him, but this other person clearly isn’t as used to hunting.

‘Put the gun down,’ the Sheriffs voice cuts through the silence.

Derek lets his head fall against the tree in relief. Stiles called the station. Thank god.

‘There is a man out there,’ Cathy says, sounding genuinely scared. ‘He said he was going to kill me, like he’s killed before.’

Derek tenses and waits for the Sheriff’s reply.

‘Kate Argent,’ the Sheriff says sternly. ‘Drop the gun, and put your hands up. You’re under arrest for the murder of Heather Custer.’

‘Oh, Sheriff,’ Kate sneers. ‘You really should’ve come with more backup.’

Derek peeks out from behind the tree. Sheriff Stilinski has his gun trained on the woman. His eyes are fixed on her gun, but Derek is closer and sees how the woman’s fingers tighten around the weapon.

‘I will not warn you again. Drop the gun.’

Derek sees the woman’s index finger slide onto the trigger. A muscle in her arm twitches.

She’s going to shoot him, he realizes. She’s going to shoot Stiles’ dad.

He moves from behind the tree and pulls the trigger on his Taser. He hadn’t expected it to sound the same as a gun going off.


	9. Chapter 9

Derek smiles when the doorbell finally rings. He’s been waiting for it all day.

Yesterday, Stiles had cheerfully ignored the fact that he was grounded and shown up at the hospital with Malia, so they could help Derek and his uncle home. He’d then promised them he would come by the next day, but would give them some private family time for now.

‘Dear god,’ Peter mutters from where he’s sitting on the couch. ‘Just open the door, already. You’re sappiness is disturbing.’

Derek throws a pillow at him and goes to open the door. On the other side he finds a grinning Stiles.

‘I’ve thought of your punishment,’ Stiles greets him.

‘Punishment?’

‘Remember how I said I was going to kick your ass?’ Derek nods. He’d hoped Stiles had forgotten. ‘I figured there was a better way to make you suffer. I’m forcing you to be social.’

Derek groans, exaggerating his discomfort for Stiles’ benefit. ‘Why?’

‘Because we need to celebrate the fact that we caught Crazy Kate, and the clearing of your name.’

‘Fine,’ Derek sighs. ‘Who’s coming?’

‘Malia and Kira, of course. I also invited Scott. And Allison.’ Stiles looks a little nervous at the last name, probably thinking that Derek won’t allow the girl into his house.

But Derek doesn’t have anything against her. If anything, he owes her everything. Allison Argent had gone to the Sheriff, telling him she’d seen her aunt around town. The same aunt that was wanted for suspicion of arson in Oregon. The Sheriff had shown her the picture of Cathy Sterling he’d gotten from the community centre, when he’d followed up on Derek’s claim about the self-defence instructor. Allison had confirmed that it was her aunt Kate and the Sheriff had sent a couple deputies to the woman’s house.

‘That doesn’t sound too bad,’ Derek admits.

‘Great,’ Stiles says and shoulders past him into the house. ‘They’ll be here soon.’

He’s just closed the door when there is another knock. He opens up and is immediately enveloped in a tight hug.

‘If you hurt him, I will kill you,’ Scott mutters into his ear.

Derek swallows, but nods and pats Scott’s back a little awkwardly.

‘This is my overly affectionate best friend Scott. Scott this is Derek,’ Stiles introduces them.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Scott grins when he pulls back. The guy looks like an excited puppy, with his crooked jaw and floppy hair.

‘Hi. I’m Allison.’ A brown-haired girl steps up beside Scott. She looks unsure of her welcome, but when Derek smiles at her and shakes her hand, she smiles back warmly.

‘Thank you so much,’ Derek says. ‘I owe you.’

‘No, you don’t,’ Allison shakes her head. Her smile growing and her cheeks dimpling.

Derek waves them towards the living room and then introduces them to his uncle.

‘I hope the crazy gene isn’t as strong as the pretty gene in your family,’ Peter tells Allison.

Derek shakes his head and is about to tell his uncle off for being rude, but it appears that Allison doesn’t need to be rescued.

‘No, but it is as strong as our fondness-for-sharp-objects gene,’ she deadpans.

‘She’s terrifying, isn’t she?’ Stiles says approvingly from behind him.

Derek is about to ask him where he finds all these people that look like Disney characters, but are absolutely terrifying, when there’s another knock on the front door. Kira stumbles in, tripping over the doorstep. The only reason she doesn’t go down is because her fingers are twined with Malia’s. When the girl has righted herself, she beams at Derek.

‘We brought food,’ Kira says.

‘Thai,’ Malia adds. ‘If anyone doesn’t like it, I’m getting their portion because I paid.’

The two girls walk straight to the living room. Derek follows them, shaking his head with a smile.

Once everyone’s settled, Allison asks, ‘How did the Sheriff know you were at the cabin? I thought he’d only sent people to Kate’s house?’

‘Oh, let me tell the story,’ Stiles says, before Derek can open his mouth.

But Derek claps a hand over his mouth before Stiles can say another word. He remembers Stiles telling him the story of the air-mattress sled. It had taken the guy almost an hour to get to the point.

‘I’ll tell it,’ he says. Stiles pouts, but nods. Derek takes his hand away and explains what happened. ‘The deputy that had been on duty at the hospital told the Sheriff that he’d seen me getting into his son’s Jeep. McCall overheard and went to their house to arrest me. I wasn’t there, but he was just in time to hear Kate confess. He told Stiles there were already people on their way to the house, but-‘

‘But then I told him you weren’t at the house,’ Stiles interrupts him. ‘You were at a cabin on Old Mill road. He raced out of the house, while I called my dad to tell him where you were. And that’s how my dad arrived in time to see Derek tase Kate,’ Stiles finishes the story. He bumps his shoulder against Derek’s and grins proudly.

‘I wish I could’ve seen her twitching,’ Malia says, staring off into the distance.

‘I wish I could’ve pulled that trigger,’ Peter mumbles.

‘Dude, are you the only one in your family that isn’t a psycho?’ Stiles hisses into Derek’s ear.

‘You’re one to talk,’ Derek snorts. ‘You asked me if she peed herself after I shot her.’

‘Hey, that was a valid question!’

‘Can we start eating before you two get lost in your banter again?’ Malia asks.

Derek nods and then pulls Stiles to the kitchen with him so they can get some plates and cutlery.

‘Hey, Derek,’ Stiles says. His voice sounds uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. ‘Thank you. For saving my dad.’

‘I- Of course,’ Derek nods. ‘I couldn’t stop him from getting hurt, though.’

‘That’s okay.’ Stiles wraps his arms around him and hugs him tightly. ‘At least he’s still here for me to yell at him to be more careful.’

Derek smiles and hugs him back. He buries his head in Stiles neck, breathing in the comforting scent of green apples.

‘You want to go on a date with me?’ he asks.

Stiles pulls back and looks at him a little bemused. ‘Of course I do. That would be our fourth date by my count.’

‘Fourth?’ Derek asks. He thinks back on the past couple days and groans. There has definitely been date-like activity between them. ‘We are not counting anything that happened while I was a fugitive as a date, Stiles.’

‘But that means I’ll have to wait longer for you to kiss me,’ Stiles pouts.

Derek shakes his head. He really has chosen a ridiculous person to fall for.

He pulls Stiles back in and presses their lips together. Stiles’ body is hard against his, but his lips are soft. Derek tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss. He tightens his grip on Stiles’ hips and groans when Stiles parts his lips.

‘Stop making out and bring us our forks!’ Peter yells at them.

They jump apart. Stiles hits his elbow on the kitchen counter and Derek nearly trips over his own feet.

‘We’ll continue this later,’ Stiles grins. He grabs the plates and walks out of the kitchen.

Derek stares after him and wonders how his life went from normal to crap to amazing in only a few days. He’s pretty sure he has Stiles to thank for all the amazing.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


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